tunnel of love
by libowie
Summary: Aang was ten years old and sitting on that swing next to the old oak tree the night Katara came up to him [“What are you doing here? It’s really late, Katara, you should go home”] and told him she loved him for the first time.


_s w i n g--_by-the--o l d--**o a k--**tree

Aang liked the way the swing creaked as he pushed himself back and forth. It reminded him of Gran-Gran (Sokka swears her bones creak just like the metal chains) and the days she would sit out on the porch with the kids gathered around her and tell stories of magic times way back when, as they listened to the sound of the cicadas sing.

Aang liked the way the oak tree behind him sprinkled leaves all around the park. It reminded him of his mother (those first few years of his life when he remembers a soft lady who loved him more than the sky) and the sound of her voice, a whisper in the wind, and her silky hair falling all around him like autumn leaves.

Aang liked the chilly air and the cool night sky spread out above him. It reminded him of the thick coats of winter (just like the one Appa has) and of days spent playing out in the breeze and seeing his breath like a cloud in front of him, as if Heaven wasn't so far away after all.

But Aang _didn't_ like the three empty swings next to him, reminding him he was alone.

It was probably around ten o'clock at night, and he had snuck out of the house, so it wasn't like he expected anyone to be here, anyway. In fact, he had ventured here in the first place so he could have some time to think away from everything else.

And this park had always given him piece of mind. It was a happy place, full of memories and laughter, but today he didn't feel like laughing. Today he needed to sort a few things out, because although it was a Tuesday, Aang's mind was still stuck on Wednesday of last week, when something very unexpected happened at school.

His name was Jet. He was an orphan, he was a leader, and he was very, very, hateful.

Jet was an obvious trouble-maker, one could tell by the way he walked, the way he looked at something, the way he always had a pencil or pen sticking out of his mouth (he had never used them to write, though he found other uses for the sharp objects.).

No one messed with Jet unless they wanted to end up with a lead or ink infection, or roughed up by the members of his posse.

And for reasons completely unknown to Aang (was it the hair? It must have been the hair…) Jet was extremely popular. Guys envied him, girls swooned over him, and even some of the teachers seemed afraid.

But they had trouble-makers at the school before (Toph had even been one, for a while, and sometimes Zuko) and this wasn't what bothered Aang.

What had gotten to Aang, burrowed into his mind, was the fact that Jet had ignored every girl he met so far (except for that "girl" in his gang, Smelly-something), but had taken an interest in Katara.

Aang was ten years old. He was also two grades above the grade he should be in, there-fore heightening his intelligence and maturity to that of a twelve-year-old. He knew that if a boy like Jet liked a girl like Katara (_his_ Katara) then things wouldn't turn out to good.

Perhaps the worst part had been that Katara had taken a liking to Jet, too, and started hanging out with him. A lot.

And Aang missed her.

Eventually, after endless criticism from Sokka and witnessing Jet's group steal from some other kids with her own eyes, Katara stopped liking Jet. In fact, she stopped hanging out with him all together.

And even though Aang didn't like seeing Katara hurt, he was glad to have his friend back.

Aang stopped swinging and dug his feet into the sand. It had only taken a couple of days for everything to happen, but it was all over now, so there was no reason to worry.

Except, he mused, for the fact that Katara had so quickly dropped him for this other boy. He was overreacting, he knew. As far as Katara was concerned (even if she had a crush on Jet, and she was pretty sure he liked her too) they were never anything more than friends. They had never done anything to suggest more, and Aang took comfort in the fact that he was still the only boy she had ever kissed.

But that was just the problem! Why didn't Aang want Katara kissing other boys? Was he really just worried about protecting her heart, like Sokka, or was he _jealous_?

Aang already knew he liked Katara as more than a friend, he had known it for a long time. The only thing was, he had never thought so far ahead as to what he was going to do about it. He never imagined he would have to tell her how he felt, because at the time other boys liking her wasn't a problem. At the time, Katara had never liked any of them back.

But he couldn't tell Katara how he felt, she was his best friend, and he couldn't risk (or handle) the rejection.

Letting out a deep sigh the exasperated boy dropped his head into his hands. His current train of thought was leading him down tangled roads and making life more complicated, so for a few moments he was able to forget Katara and seek comfort in thoughts of the sky, and the cicadas, and fuzzy memories of his mother.

He was so relaxed in this place of peace he almost drifted off to sleep, if not for the voice that snapped him out of his trance.

"Hey there."

The voice was soft, like a whisper on the wind, and Aang looked up to find, instead of his mother, Katara stood, clad in a light coat and hat.

"What are you doing here?" his voice sounded especially harsh compared to the lightness of her's, so he tried to soften his tone. "It's really late, Katara, you should go home."

"So should you." Katara took a tentative step forward as she spoke, though she stayed in the middle of the playground, as if afraid to come closer.

She had him beaten there, and Aang didn't know what to say. After a few moments of watching his own breath, he tried to reason. "Your dad will be really mad if he finds out you snuck out."

She shrugged. "So will Gyatso." Aang was once again rendered speechless. "Besides," she continued "I wanted to be with you."

Be with him? Katara had never said that before. Ignoring the real questions he wanted to ask, Aang prodded on. "How did you know I was here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I…had a lot of things on my mind. Big decisions to make." At this Aang raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt. "I was looking out the window when I saw you climb out of yours. You didn't come back for a while, so I got worried and came looking for you."

Aang could tell she was lying (she couldn't even see his window from hers), but kept quiet about it. Katara knew something he didn't, and although he was curious, she wasn't exactly the person her wanted to hear from at the moment. There was a long silence that followed, Aang with his eyes averted toward the ground, Katara with her mouth drawn into a frown.

Finally Katara broke the silence, but her words cut into him so deep Aang found himself wishing she hadn't. "I missed you, you know."

And when he looked up into her eyes they held such sorrow that suddenly, despite all his Jet related doubts, he could tell it was the truth. She had missed him.

"I know." He responded, even though he didn't. There was a lump forming in his throat, but he didn't know why. The way Katara was speaking to him, the way she looked at him, it was almost like she was apologizing, but there was nothing to be sorry for.

Suddenly Aang had the urge to run up and embrace her, and cry into her shoulder and tell her he was sorry too, even though there was no reason for apologies. Perhaps they were both feeling guilty about not spending enough time together, or perhaps it was more of a reassurance; another boy would never get in the way of their friendship again.

But before he could run up to Katara and bury his face in her neck until thoughts of silky hair draped around him no longer reminded him of his mother, Aang stopped himself. Instead, he stood, and told her "C'mon, Katara, I'll walk you home." Because it seemed like everything worked it's self out, and there was no need for crying or late-night trips to the park.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, breaking through the haze of the moment and thrusting her hands forward, signaling him to stop. "I have to tell you something!"

"Katara," Aang began, holding onto the metal chains of the swing for support as he slid his feet back into his shoes. "We can talk tomorrow, but we have to get up early for school, and it's really late, and I don't want you to get in trouble, plus you might get sick because of the cold weath-"

"I think I might be in love with you."

Aang dropped back onto the swing. "What?"

"I mean-" she stammered, walking over to the swing where he sat. "I'm not really sure myself, it's like… I… I never loved somebody before or anything. At least not like this."

Katara dropped to her knees in the sand and began to lace up his shoes (he hadn't been able to finish because he had been hit with the biggest shock of his life before he could get them all the way on) like she was talking about something simple like Appa or school or the weather.

"It's just that- I don't know, I've always liked being around you, and when you leave I get really lonely even if other people with me. And sometimes when you hug me I get a fluttery feeling right here" she paused to point at her stomach, then resumed tying his shoe "like you would get on that roller coaster the time we went to Universal Studios."

Katara finished tying his laces and scooted closer, so that her stomach was pressed up against his knees. She looked up at him and said, in a slightly smaller voice "Aang, I know the stuff I feel for you isn't normal. I guess I'm just trying to ask… well, I'm just wondering if you know how you feel about me."

"Katara" but that was as far as he got. Where could he even begin? "You know I love you-"

"But you're not _in_ love with me, right?" She asked, averting her eyes to the sand, but managing a small smile. "It's okay, I understand."

"I didn't say that! It's just that… we're best friends, right?"

"Right."

"And it would be weird if we-"

"It would be weird if we didn't, too."

"But I'm two years younger-"

"Age is just a number"

"I'm not necessarily the coolest boy in school-"

Katara laughed a little at this, "Neither is Sokka, but we all love him anyway. I can love you anyway, too, if you let me. I have for a long time."

Aang didn't know what to say. He didn't deserve Katara, and he knew it. He was already feeling selfish keeping her as a best friend! There was nothing he wanted more than to tell her he loved her back- but it just wouldn't work. Then again, he had already come up with all the excuses, and she had come up with all the retorts.

It was for real, this wasn't another one of his dreams- Katara loved him. He needed to decide what to do, and fast. If… maybe if this is really what would make her happy, if _he _would make her happy… he only wants to make her happy.

"Hey Katara" he reached out and subconsciously slipped his hand into her warm gloved one. "Remember when I was five, and you were seven, and we got married."

Katara instantly smiled. "Yes."

"_Would you like to do that again some day?" _was what he thought of saying, but "Oh… y-yeah, me too." was what he ended up whispering, before he dropped her hand and decided he had better find another park (father away, this time) because _now_ he had some thinking to do.

_**Note: **__Oh my goodness, I haven't updated in a very, very long amount of time. Um, sorry. So, remember that oneshot that I said I'd write and I never got around to doing it. Well, guess what? I wrote it. This is a companion thingy to those little sentences in that last chappie of Marriage. It is undecided if I will do the other sentences or not. _

_And please, before some one tells me anything about it I am aware that the ending is rushed! Thank you, but this story wouldn't end. I know it's not so great, but this kind of thing is just depressing to write when you're a girl who's suffering from affairs of the heart. I kinda do like the ending, though. Huh._

_So one day, if things turn out goodly for me, I plan on coming back and fixing this up. But until then, enjoy!_

_Written partially to "Clocks" by Coldplay._

_Sweet dreams, friends, and I am forever thankful for those of you (you know who you are) that take the time to read my drawn out Author's notes where I pour out my problems. As a special thank-you to those of you who have actually sat up with me though a hard time and typed endless emails of advice and reassurance numerous times, I have a special thank you posted on my profile. _


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